The Great Galman Escape
by Spouse of Orestes
Summary: How exactly did Edmund get out of a fix when the Countess of Galma almost got him cornered in wedlock? An outtake from my “Queen’s Susan’s Marriage” universe.
1. Entrapment

_A/N: I couldn't resist the clamor from you lovely, lovely readers for this story to be told, so it's finally here! It took a while for me to write this because I had to do some research while I milk my imagination for fresh ideas. I don't know if I went a bit OoC here with Edmund, but it's the best I could think of to keep it a comedy. Again I appreciate your comments. _

**The Great Galman Escape**

"_On a visit to Galma, the king's niece had sought to entrap Edmund into marriage by appearing naked at his feet when he woke up. She managed to get false witnesses for their "affair" and raised quite an outrage but Edmund somehow managed to worm his way out of it without creating a diplomatic nightmare." – Queen Susan's Marriage_

**Chapter One**

**Entrapment**

King Edmund gave the man in armour across him a piercing look and felt the corners of his own lips widen.

_Fear_,he thought. His opponent just wreaked of it, Edmund could sense it twenty feet away. He carefully lowered his visor. The signal came and he let his horse, Philip, charge. With expert skill, Edmund thrust his lance and it hit precisely where he wanted to: the left side of the chest area uncovered by a shield. The force of his blow sent the opposite knight flying from his horse and falling to the ground.

Edmund whipped around and raised his lance as the crowd around him cheered. He lowered his lance after a full minute.

"That short Edmund? They're still cheering!" mocked Philip.

"Oh, I don't want to bask too much after I've unseated all of their best knights," Edmund replied, pretending to be humble, though he knew his horse didn't buy one word of it. Philip snorted.

"Alright fine," said Edmund and raised his lance again to thunderous applause. "But only because that last chap is that annoying crown prince who keeps sending Susan a dozen crummy love letters every week," he added, though deep inside he was reveling at his victory. He just won another jousting championship, his fourth, actually. It would have been a seven peat if Peter had not beaten him in the three straight years that he joined in the tournament. He seems to be the only contender that could best Edmund now. Fortunately for Edmund, in the last four seasons, his older brother had been too busy with other matters at home to be bothered into entering the two-week long annual jousting tournament of the Alliance of Eastern Ocean Nations.

Edmund and Philip approached the dais where the King of Galma, Lycurgus and his brother Duke Pentheus were waiting to proclaim him winner. The King didn't look too happy. It was after all his son that Edmund just defeated and sent away to the physician. Nevertheless, Lycurgus managed to perform his duties and pronounce him graciously (but with difficulty) as the champion.

Edmund dismounted from Philip, removed his helmet and came face to face with a girl a few years younger than himself. She was squinting at him again and Edmund fought the urge to back away.

For the younger King of Narnia, his first meeting with Penthea, Duke Pentheus' daughter, could only be described as "cringe at first sight." For some odd reason, he found her unnerving and it wasn't just because she had too many pimples and had a cackling laugh. There was something about her that he simply didn't trust. Shortly after introductions, she dropped her handkerchief directly at his path, expecting him to pick it up for her. Edmund was already familiar with such tactics and promptly sent Binky, the cat to retrieve it for him and hand back the fallen article to its owner. Apparently, the countess wasn't used to talking animals and promptly shrieked.

Still, that didn't deter her. For days, she tailed him like a shadow with petty excuses like bringing him sweets or just wanting to wish him good luck on his next match. Edmund normally tolerated such antics with girls. At times he even flirted back—kissed a girl's hand, picked up a handkerchief, called someone 'lovely' or asked more than one dance at a ball. But he always made sure he kept his distance and never gave them full encouragement. In Penthea's case, Edmund opted to completely ignore her. Yet the Countess appeared to be as daft as her eyesight was poor. She had a nasty habit of popping in and out at unexpected places, trying to catch him alone at unguarded moments. And just the other day, it took all of Edmund's self-control not to run her through with his sword when she walked in on him in his tent while he was half undressed after a match and offered him Turkish Delight. It was rather fortunate that Mr. Tumnus had entered at that moment and sent her running out. Apparently, the Countess, like most of the superstitious Galmans distrusted fauns and any other magical creature for that matter. Since yesterday, he stuck to Mr. Tumnus like glue, hoping the presence of the faun would discourage her from coming too close. And it did work, until now of course when he was forced to come near her again. She was the bearer of the laurel crown that was meant to be put on his head.

Edmund reluctantly knelt down before her and kept his gaze on the ground. But Penthea cupped his chin with her clammy hand to tilt his head up to meet her face. Edmund defiantly avoided her gaze until she was forced to place the laurel crown on his head and let him go.

"Hail this year's champion for the fourth straight year, King Edmund of Narnia!" Pentheus shouted. He sounded a lot more jovial than his brother. The crowd echoed his cry and Edmund's cheeriness returned. He acknowledged the crowd with a humble salute of the hand.

"A crown of laurels is too little a reward King Edmund," continued Pentheus. "What say you to another prize? A kiss from a maiden of your choice among those present?"

Edmund was too much in jolly spirits that he readily nodded. He regretted it a moment later when he realized, there were no other maidens present in the immediate vicinity aside from Penthea. He glanced desperately at the crowd. All he could see were men, old women, children, and his own Narnian escorts who were an assortment of talking creatures and fauns.

"Ahem," Pentheus cleared his throat. His head was nodding slightly to the direction of his excited daughter.

Edmund pretended he hadn't noticed but he was deliberating hard as he glanced at a distant tree. "Semele!" he finally called.

A sudden breeze quickly blew by and a cluster leaves came hurtling right in front of Edmund, blocking him from Penthea. The leaves gathered together until they formed a womanly figure.

"You called, my King?" asked the wood nymph before him.

"Would you honour me with a kiss, sweet nymph?" he asked.

"The honour is mine," she replied before drawing his face closer to her own with her soft hands until his lips met hers. She tasted like fresh dew and Edmund let his lips linger on hers a while longer than he intended. She was his favorite nymph and was the only one who willingly accompanied him on short sea voyages whenever he asked—not that he would ask any other.

"Thank you, dear," he said when they parted. Edmund caught a glimpse of Penthea. She looked like she wanted to kill someone, though the anger in her face was competing with fear at the creature that was now dissolving back into a cluster of leaves before her eyes.

Edmund turned to King Lycurgus and said his usual thank you speech for the two-week stay. He purposely avoided Pentheus, then quickly rejoined Mr. Tumnus and his Narnian escorts who were cheering him on his victory. They proceeded together into Galma's palace where they were given one last farewell feast by the King along with the other knights from the other kingdoms that competed. All of them were departing tonight, but Edmund and his Narnian party had decided to stay in Galma until tomorrow.

"One more night," said Edmund to Mr. Tumnus, as they sipped their last cup of wine before they retired to bed. "It will be wonderful to come home to Narnia again. It will be a fresh change of company."

Mr. Tumnus nodded. "Yes, a nice change indeed."

The Galmans were hospitable enough to their guests but they tend to avoid all contact with the talking beasts and magical creatures that accompanied Edmund. In addition, they were a serious people who cared far too much about work. Even their feasts had a dreary atmosphere to it. The music was far too somber, the wine too bland and the talk dealt too much on dull matters. Their clothes too, Edmund noticed, were far too uncomfortable for Narnian tastes. The men all wore stiff-necked collared shirts and tightly gartered trousers. The women looked like they were bound to the point of choking in their starched blouses from neck to waist. From their too little waists (Edmund suspected they wore some sort of constricting instrument underneath to keep such small figures) and down to the ground, they wore enormous skirts that had probably countless layers underneath. Edmund hardly saw any lady's feet, but on the occasion that Penthea lifted her skirt to him (a rather bold gesture among her people as they seemed to think a woman showing anything but her hands and head in public was a scandal), Edmund saw she was wearing shoes with spiked heels four inches high. He actually wondered how she could walk in such things. His own sisters always wore comfortably flat boots and slippers.

"I can't wait until tomorrow," said Edmund, thinking of the familiar comfort of home.

"Yes," replied the faun excitedly. "And just in time for the Ceresian Festival."

The Ceresian or Harvest Festival occurred every year in Narnia during the summer. It began on the first day of the harvest and went on for seven days. During those days, everyone in Narnia participated in gathering the produce and threshing out the corn and grain. Susan presided over all the activities as part of her duties as the elder queen. From early morning until mid-afternoon all of Narnia followed her as she led them through the fields and woods to gather the fruit and make thanksgiving offerings to Aslan for a good harvest. Afterwards, there was dancing and feasting until sunset. Edmund and his siblings always enjoyed the feast and next to Christmas, it was their favourite holiday.

Edmund gave Mr. Tumnus a knowing smile and clapped him on the back. "Oh yes, I'm sure that's what you've been waiting for."

Mr. Tumnus blushed. "Are you sure you don't want to join me this year? You and Peter are always invited, you know. And Semele's always asking for you."

Edmund shook his head. "No, Mr. Tumnus. As much fun as the 'other' festival is, I'll pass."

"I don't really quite understand why you never joined me again. I thought you enjoyed that evening."

Edmund just shook his head, dismissively. "I have my reasons."

That was his usual reply and Mr. Tumnus knew not to question him further. They talked of other matters for a few more minutes before mutually deciding to retire. Edmund proceeded to his guest chamber in the castle, while Mr. Tumnus left to go to a tent outside to join their other Narnian escorts. The non-human Narnians all preferred sleeping outdoors in their natural habitat as opposed to grand bedrooms in Galma's castle. Edmund would have rather joined them in a tent, but Lycurgus refused to have his special guest and Lord sleep outside his castle.

Edmund had no trouble settling in his bed. His spirits were running high at the prospect of the festival tomorrow. He shut his eyes but before his mind drifted off completely, he thought of a memory of Semele dancing in the moonlight, half hidden by shadows of trees. He could imagine the feel of her lips again and he made up his mind to find a way to steal a kiss from her during the festival. Maybe this time he would do it in daylight.

* * *

_Edmund ran as fast as he could through the bare cornfields. He could feel his ragged breath desperately begging for rest and his legs aching but he knew he just had to go on._

_A cackling laugh pierced his ears and his heart jumped a mile. She was gaining on him!_

_He ran on but stopped abruptly at the sight before him. The fields ended at the edge of a raging river. But this river wasn't of water, but of wine. He stepped back, fearful of touching the red blood liquid that flowed in abundance. But just then another cackle ripped the night and he turned around._

_There she was: Penthea in her short flowing dress and wild hair. Her eyes burrowed into him and he could see every one of her pimples throbbing and growing as if they had a life of their own. _

"_Ed-mund…" The way she said his name made his blood run cold. She licked her lips hungrily as she continued to stare at him._

"_Stay back!" he warned. "Don't come any closer!" He reached down into his waist but found that his sword wasn't there. He was completely unarmed._

"_I know you want me…"_

"_NO! Get away! I don't want you!"_

_She stepped nearer. "But you do… You just don't know it yet."_

"_No, I don't!" he yelled and stepped back. He was inches from falling into the river._

_She advanced further and held out her hands. Her large pimple-infested hands!_

_Edmund moved back and lost his balance and he felt himself fall… fall… into the raging river of wine below that he knew would turn him mad. He tried to shout but no words would come out._

Suddenly he felt a hand grasp his chest and a warm body press to his back.

"Su…" he mumbled as he relaxed. _It's just a nightmare, _he thought though he didn't open his eyes yet. He was confident it was all over. His sister was here now. Any moment he would feel her fingers stroking his hair and her sweet voice singing him a Narnian lullaby.

He would never confess it, but he loved being comforted by his older sister whenever he had nightmares. He always pretended to be asleep whenever she came to sooth him so he wouldn't have to admit she let him do it.

He felt the fingers in his chest move to undo the buttons of his nightshirt and he was puzzled for a moment why Susan would do that when he startled by a wet kiss on his neck. Before he could react, he felt another one on his collarbone.

_Wait a minute! I'm in Galma! Susan's at home in Narnia!_

His eyes flew open and saw the face of the woman of his nightmares inches from his own!

_Is this still part of my nightmare? Aslan's mane! Somebody wake me up!_

"Good morning, your majesty," Penthea smiled. Edmund stared at her in abject horror as he thought: _Hers was the smile that could launch a thousand ships… away from her port!_

She backed away a little from him and Edmund could see a different view of her. A view he wished he didn't have to see for she wasn't wearing anything. It stirred him back to his senses and he hurriedly scampered off the bed away from her.

"What are you doing here!" he finally muttered as he tossed a pillow in her direction to cover her body from his sight.

Penthea cackled loudly. "I'm your prize, your majesty. My champion!" And she tossed the pillow away. Edmund quickly shut his eyes and grasped the end of the blanket to cover her.

"DON'T! Don't do that!"

"Y-you, you still refuse me! How could you be so cruel!" she cried. And in the next instant, she was bawling so loud, it was enough to wake up the entire castle.

Edmund jumped back into the bed, grabbed her by the shoulders and held a hand to her mouth to stop her. "Shut up! Someone will hear!"

But the Penthea bit his hand so he let go then shouted: "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!"

"What?" cried Edmund startled, as he rubbed his bruised hand. "I-I never said anything—"

Edmund didn't get a word further. The door to his room, which he remembered that he forgot to lock the night before, burst open. Three pages and a chamber maid came rushing in and they looked in wide-eyed shock at the Narnian king and the Galman countess together in bed. Edmund suddenly realized his night shirt was unbuttoned halfway and he still had his arms around her. He quickly let go of her. But when he did, she started screaming again and this time she was hitting him hard across the chest with her fists:

"I WON'T LET YOU GO! YOU TOLD ME YOU'LL MARRY ME! YOU LIAR! AND I BELIEVED YOU! I BELIEVED YOU!"

Edmund tried to get up but she clamped on to his arms and hugged him to her. He heard hurried footsteps and alarmed shouting. When he managed to look up, there were half a dozen more people who had just entered the room. On impulse, he roughly pushed at Penthea. She fell back hard into the bed. Two of the maids rushed to her side.

"You brute!"

Edmund instinctively ducked as a fist came swinging at him. When he had moved to a safer distance he discovered the person that almost boxed him: Archelaus, Lycurgus' son and the crown prince of Galma.

"What has he done, cousin?" Archelaus asked as he hugged Penthea to him and covered her with the blanket.

"He's leaving me!" wailed the countess. "He's leaving me to go back to that monster he kissed yesterday! And after I gave him… everything!"

"What are you talking about!" Edmund demanded.

"Don't pretend you don't know!" Penthea shouted. "You deny me now? After we've been together for two weeks!"

"I haven't an inkling what you're talking about!" Edmund shouted back. Archelaus stood straight—well at least as straight as his injuries from yesterday allowed him—and eyed Edmund with fury.

"She's lying!" Edmund said to the prince and he turned to the growing number of servants who were crowding into the room. More and more appeared to be coming in. "All of you must have noticed I avoided her the whole time I was here."

Penthea snorted. "But not in your bed! I was here every night!"

Edmund couldn't help but laugh. The idea was just ridiculous. But he was the only one laughing. Half the castle seemed to be crowding into the room now. And he abruptly stopped laughing when the crowd moved aside and King Lycurgus and his brother appeared demanding to know what's going on.

Before Edmund could say a word in edgewise, Penthea was sobbing the same story to her father and uncle.

"That's a lie!" Edmund thundered. "I haven't touched her. I woke up just this morning with her in my bed! And you can't prove she was here any other time!"

"Oh yes I can!" she cried defiantly. She called for one of her maids. "Didn't you always see me come from his room every morning?"

The maid replied that she had without batting an eyelash. Another maid collaborated that she too had seen them together.

Edmund was aghast. It was a conspiracy involving probably every single person in the room but him. And he could provide no other witnesses for himself. He alone among the Narnians slept in the castle. The rest of his companions were always outside.

Sallowpad, the raven, suddenly flew in from the window and Edmund met his eye with a silent explanation to inform the others of his predicament. He flew back out to warn the others just as Pentheus rounded on Edmund.

"You dare defile my daughter!"

"What can we expect from an arrogant beast!" hissed Archelaus. "He's just like his worthless subjects! Animals all of them! We should have killed them a long time ago and taken over their land. And now we will, won't we father?" He stared harshly at Edmund. "This is war, fiend."

It took a few seconds for Edmund to register what the prince just said before. When it did, Edmund roared with laughter. The prince was either perfectly crazy or perfectly stupid.

"What are you laughing about?" Archelaus shouted.

"War?" echoed Edmund. "And how exactly do you plan on winning a war against Narnia?"

"We have an army!" boasted the prince.

"Oh what? Two companies of you palace guards? Add one more if you include all the peasants you could possibly train. Although I'm not sure if they'll last very long if I send in six centaurs and two tigers to charge at them at any given battlefield," replied Edmund. He knew his statistics very well and Galma had the least number of armed men among all of Narnia's vassals.

"Son," said Lycurgus evenly. "He's quite right. We are his vassal, precisely because we don't have an army. We pay tribute to them to protect us."

Archelaus looked confused for a minute but then went on: "But still… he can't just… I mean… I demand a challenge for his offense!"

Edmund crossed his arms and smirked at the prince. "Done," he said. "You and me. Your choice: hand-to-hand combat with a sword or another round with the jousting stick. After these last two weeks, I just got warmed up. I can go for another two if you want."

The prince's face fell and Edmund knew Archelaus was remembering he had just been defeated yesterday, for the fourth straight year. Edmund didn't have to remind the Galman prince that Edmund was also the second placer in the annual Narnian sword dueling tournaments for the last eight years (the champion was always Peter).

"Forgive my son for his impertinence." Edmund was startled at the gentleness and the relative calm in King Lycurgus' voice. "But Sir, I must protest. We may be a mere vassal of Narnia, but we expect better treatment than this from our Lord." Edmund could see not accusation but disappointment in his eyes and the Narnian King immediately knew that at least Lycurgus was not a part of this scheme.

Edmund met him with equal calm and with as much respect. "My Lord, on my honour as king, I swear to you, I have never touched your niece. This is all a plot."

Lycurgus didn't reply but merely shook his head.

The crowd on the doorway parted and Mr. Tumnus and the other Narnians pushed into the room, ready to fight for their king. Edmund motioned for them to do nothing.

"Your highness, you have to believe me," implored Edmund.

Lycurgus stared at the still sobbing countess before turning back to Edmund. "I think I know my niece better than you. If she said it is so, then it must be true. And I beseech you to do the honourable thing and marry her."

It was Edmund's turn to shake his head in disappointment. The king maybe truthful, but he was easily fooled and Edmund knew no amount of pleading or threats on his part could alter that.

"I am sorry," Edmund said firmly. "But I will not."

Penthea wailed even louder and Lycurgus bit his lower lip. "They say you are the Just king. Tell me where is justice here? Is it too much to ask to respect other nation's laws, customs and traditions? We value and respect our women here, King Edmund."

"And so do we in Narnia. We have always respected others' customs and traditions as long as they do not harm anyone else."

"Do you? If you truly do then you will do your obligation. Marriage is sacred to us. It is our tradition. Marry her and preserve that tradition. Prove that you respect other nations as you say you do."

Edmund gave a defeated sigh. Lycurgus had hit a nerve in him and he was out of ideas on how to get around it.

"I shall give you time to think about it," continued Lycurgus. He glanced uncomfortably at the half-naked Penthea and Edmund figured he was only too eager to get her decently dressed and away from this crowd. He ordered all his subjects out the room and had the maids take Penthea back to her own apartments. When they were gone, Edmund bid his own subjects to follow him outside. They went to Mr. Tumnus' tent and sat around a low table. Mr. Badger served them breakfast while Edmund related the whole tale.

"You do believe me, do you?" Edmund asked when he had finished.

"Of course, we do your majesty," said Sallowpad. "Anybody who has seen the countess and knows you would be insane to believe you would even come near her on your own volition."

Everyone laughed heartily at this and Edmund was glad to have such loyal friends.

"What do we do now?" asked the fox.

"Sail away of course," replied Binky. "King Edmund has no obligations to her and to the Galman king. Besides, if we don't come home now, we'll miss the Ceresian Festival."

Edmund thought about it, but shook his head. Maybe it was pride in him, but he didn't want to go away from Galma like a guilty man escaping his obligations. He didn't mind that he would be thought of as a defiler of women, it's the part about not honouring other people's customs and traditions that bothered him. If he couldn't prove his innocence, at least he wanted to get the king to withdraw the proposal himself without using the threat of brute force.

He sat in silence for a few minutes and sipped the wine he was offered. He remembered Susan being in some similar predicament years ago and she made a brilliant show of frightening the Potens King so he withdrew voluntarily.

He took a huge gulp of the wine and suddenly had an idea. Of course, certain sacrifices must be made and he would need a few reinforcements, but if it worked, he could not only get rid of Penthea but maybe get Achelaus off Susan's back as well. He stared across the table to Semele who was sitting in a corner. She met his eyes and gave him a smile. Edmund could think of another advantage to this scheme.

"Mr. Tumnus, could you take down a letter for me?" he said.

"Of course," replied the fawn as he reached for a quill and parchment. When he was ready, Edmund began:

"_Dear Susan,_

"_I'm sorry to say I won't be able to come home for the Ceresian Festival this year."_

"We won't?" asked Mr. Tumnus in surprise. All the other Narnians looked up and gave their attention to Edmund.

"No, Mr. Tumnus you won't and neither will Semele. I'll be needing you here. The rest of you can go home if you want to."

"Sire, we have sworn always to protect you with our lives," said Binky. "Whatever action you wish to take here in Galma, we would support it and we shall remain by your side."

The other magical creatures all uttered similar oaths to remain and Edmund was heartened again by their loyalty. He bid Mr. Tumnus to continue writing.

"_Nothing to worry about. There are just certain things I needed to do here in Galma that compels me to stay on for a few more days. I will however, need the assistance of all the fauns, satyrs and the nymphs you can spare. Please send them over tomorrow by ship. In addition, I will need about 300 barrels of wine—"_

"Three hundred barrels!" gasped Mr. Tumnus. "But King Edmund, that's the entire supply for the—"

"I am quite aware of that Mr. Tumnus. Don't fret. I know what I'm doing." He pointed back to the parchment.

"_Please do this for me without question, Su. I promise to tell you everything when I get home. I might get there even before the festival closes. But if not, I'll make it up to you next year. Have fun without me. Give my love to our Magnificent Apollo and our Valiant Minerva. Edmund."_

Edmund took the letter from Mr. Tumnus and signed his name at the bottom. He took another piece of parchment and hurriedly scribbled a second letter. He used wax and his official seal to fasten the letters and gave it to Sallowpad with instructions to take it to Narnia immediately.

"Tell them nothing of what happened here except what I've said in my letters," he told the raven. "I'll tell them all myself in time. It's no use worrying them, especially Peter. He's already got too much on his mind. Return here immediately."

He watched the raven fly off before returning into the tent to face the puzzled looks of his companions.

"Forgive me, King Edmund, but what exactly is your plan?" asked Mr. Tumnus, apprehensively.

"The plan," said Edmund as he picked up his wine cup and slurped it noisily. "Is that I'm getting drunk."

"I beg your pardon."

"Oh sorry, Mr. Tumnus, I said that wrong."

Mr. Tumnus breathed a sigh of relief.

"I meant, 'we.' 'We' are getting drunk." He passed his cup to Mr. Tumnus but picked up a fresh glass and poured a generous amount. He took a long gulp from it before swaggering over to Mr. Tumnus with a lopsided grin on his face in a mock impression of someone who was tipsy. "We're getting everyone drunk."

* * *

_A/N: Here's a little lesson in history and mythology for everyone. The Harvest Festival is a fact in Greek and Roman history. This is held in honour of Ceres (Demeter in Greek), the mother goddess of corn and harvest. The festival is held for seven days although in some books they say it happens for nine. I made up the term "Ceresian" from the goddess' name._

_I might have taken some liberties with this but I have a wild imagination and I like to compare the Pevensies with the traits of some of the Roman gods. I like to think of Susan as motherly Ceres. Peter is Apollo, god of the sun, truth, civilization and healing. Lucy is Minerva (Athena in Greek), the goddess of war, wisdom, and purity. _

_And now for the pop quiz, it's an easy one:_

_Which god appears similar to Edmund in this story?_

_If you can answer this, you'll get an idea on what Edmund is planning. Here are some clues:_

_A modern philosopher once wrote that his traits are the opposite of Apollo and that he counter-balances Apollo's nature among the Greeks._

_He has links with Ceres that figure significantly in this story._

_He's part of Narnian canon._

_I'll update as soon as I finish editing the next chapter. As usual, this is going to be another two chapter fic. _


	2. Secrets

**Chapter Two**

**Secrets**

Lucy came to rest under the shade of a large oak tree. It was nearing noon and she was all sweaty after picking fruit and corn and threshing the whole morning. She was glad for a chance to cool off. Susan joined her, looking equally tired though there appeared to be some worried lines between her brows. The older queen turned to a nearby griffin that just alighted bearing a basket filled with flasks of cool water. Lucy grabbed one of the flasks and took a long drink. Susan however, paid no attention to the drinks but questioned the griffin instead.

"Is there any word from Galma? Has Edmund written when he will return?"

"No, your majesty," replied their messenger. "We haven't received any word at all."

The worried strain appeared even more evident in Susan's face.

"Su, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," comforted Lucy.

"I hope so. It's just that I feel something's not right. Edmund never misses a Ceresian festival. It's just unusual that he would voluntarily stay abroad to miss it. It's already the fourth day of the harvest."

"Well he said in his letter there's nothing wrong," said Lucy. "He probably got caught up in an extended jousting tournament. That happens sometimes."

Susan breathed a sigh. "I don't know. It's just so odd."

"What's odd?" asked Peter who came to join them. His head and tunic were still full of corn hair. Lucy reached out to clear it away.

"Edmund," replied Susan. "And what's with the wine? Why have more than half the wine supply of Narnia shipped to Galma when he knows very well we have a festival here and—"

Susan abruptly stopped and met Peter's gaze nervously.

"And what?" asked Lucy.

"And nothing," replied Peter quickly. "It just that three hundred barrels of wine is a bit… extravagant… you know as a… gift…for the… Galman court."

"Did he say it was gift?" asked Lucy. "I don't think he mentioned anything in his letter about it being a gift. I think he's going to use it for trade. I think it's a brilliant idea. We produce so much wine, I don't think the whole of Narnia can consume half of it. Our household certainly doesn't. I bet Edmund's found an opportunity to negotiate a wine export treaty. That's probably why he stayed away this long."

"Yes… that's probably it," said Susan and Lucy noticed her siblings were still giving each other furtive looks. Lucy could sense she was missing something here. "Is there anything you know that I don't?" she asked directly.

"About Edmund?" said Peter. "No. We haven't a clue except from what we got in his letter." Lucy eyed her brother carefully and her instincts told her that at least that last statement didn't contain a lie. But she could feel there was something else that her older siblings had been keeping from her. She'll let it go for now, but eventually she'll find out. None of her siblings' secrets were ever kept secret for long from her.

"But what I'm quite puzzled at," said Lucy, "are the fauns and the nymphs and the satyrs. I haven't seen more than five of them join the festivities this year. They all seemed to have joined Edmund abroad and you know how they hate to travel across the sea."

Peter and Susan didn't say anything and Lucy continued. "Come to think of it, I haven't even seen any of them dancing off into the woods after dusk. It's just so irregular."

After sunset during the Ceresian festival, Lucy, her siblings and most of the talking beasts retired back to their homes to rest. The Ceresian festival tended to be exhausting as everyone, even the four royals participated in the work of harvesting the year's produce before they had their afternoon dance and feasting. However, the fauns, satyrs and nymphs would continue on their dancing further into the dark areas of the woods until the wee hours of the morning. Lucy had often asked Mr. Tumnus, who joined in these nightly rituals, what exactly happened during these nightly dances. Mr. Tumnus always replied that it was just more dancing and nothing that could possibly interest the four of them. Lucy never tried finding out, though Edmund, Peter and Susan admitted going to one after Lucy caught them sneaking into the palace one morning. When she interrogated them on it, they echoed Mr. Tumnus' reasons and said they just ended up being bored all night. Her older siblings never went there again and Lucy was just content with the explanation.

Susan sighed again. "I just wish I know what's going on. I'd go to Galma myself if I could. It's just six hours by ship, but I can't leave here with all the festivities going on."

Lucy hugged her sister. That was just typical of Susan, always the worrying mother, and she seemed to double her worry over Edmund ever since the incident with the White Witch.

"What if I go?" volunteered Lucy. "I can, this afternoon, after lunch. I can get a ship ready and a small crew, it would be no trouble."

Susan's face lit up. "Oh would you?"

"Of course I will," said Lucy. "I'll check on Edmund for you. I'm sure he's alright, but if you want to be sure…"

"Oh thank you!" cried Susan as she hugged her sister back.

"Do you want me to go to?" asked Peter.

"Oh no," said Lucy. "Stay here and enjoy the festival. I don't mind missing out. It's just three more days. Besides, I'm quite curious as to why Edmund hasn't come home yet. I might be able to drag him back before the festival ends."

"Maybe he found a sweetheart," suggested Peter.

Lucy and Susan rolled their eyes at him. That wasn't likely to happen. Edmund was the pickiest with regards to potential marriage partners among the four of them. He was always the best judge of character. Lucy had been to Galma before and she had met Countess Penthea, the only eligible noble lady in Galma. It didn't take a genius to know that she was in no way near Edmund's taste. And besides, Lucy suspected that Edmund had been conducting an affair with a nymph for years, though he was extremely discreet about it. Every week, whenever he was at home in Narnia, he would take a ride out alone with Philip into the edge of the Western Woods in Lantern Waste. No one ever questioned him and he revealed nothing. Everyone else was content to let it be.

Lucy could understand Edmund's discomfort on the matter. Though it wasn't taboo in Narnia for creatures of different species to fall in love, everyone expected the four royals to marry humans.

"Or maybe a sweetheart found him," said Lucy, thinking of her brother's mysterious lover, hoping somehow they could be happy even with the circumstances.

* * *

It was dusk when Lucy's small ship, the Siren Stealth approached the port of Galma. Lucy always preferred the Splendour Hyaline, though the Siren was her second favorite among Narnia's fleet of ships. She can maneuver easily on shallower waters better than the Hyaline, and was ideal for short distance traveling, such as going to Galma, the closest island nation to Cair Paravel.

The Siren docked next to the Hyaline and Lucy was soon standing on dry land.

"Everything seems so quiet," Lucy observed as she walked on the sand followed by her Narnian crew: Mr. Beaver, a tiger, two centaurs, three dogs and a griffin. The whole stretch of the beach was empty except for a few gulls out hunting, but they were all dumb beasts.

"Where are all the fishermen?" asked Mr. Beaver. "Normally, the fishermen would be coming down to the beach after a day's work by now."

"Do you get the feeling that something strange is going on here?" asked one of the centaurs. The other creatures nodded.

Lucy had that feeling too. But some instinct told her it was in no way dangerous. They walked on past empty fields, encountering not a single soul.

Finally they sighted the towers of Galma's castle. By then, the sun had completely set and it was already dark. The castle was well-lighted as expected and as they neared the entrance to the vast courtyard surrounding the castle, Lucy caught the sound of music.

"Sounds like a party," observed Mr. Beaver as they all hurried forward. They could see shadows of several people, both magical creatures and humans moving rapidly in some frenzied dance in the courtyard or even among the windows of the castle walls. They were all accompanied by the sound of cymbals and pipes and the prominent beat of what Lucy knew was an instrument called a dithyramb. Lucy had only heard it played once before by Mr. Tumnus. But his mild playing then was nothing compared to what she was hearing now. This one was faster, wilder. The rhythm somehow made her feel like she wanted to skip about and dance. Several groups of singers appear to be singing different tunes all at the same time, yet somehow their songs harmonized together.

Not a single Galman guard tried to inquire about their intentions when Lucy and her company entered the gate leading to the royal courtyard. What they saw within was enough explanation: probably the whole of Galma's population had gathered here, and it appeared to Lucy that all of them were too busy with a variety of things.

In one area, barefooted peasant men and women had linked arms with satyrs and were dancing in a circle. In another, a group of fauns were teaching children to play musical instruments. At one end of the courtyard, a young man in rich looking trousers but without a shirt was lying on a large couch surrounded by scantily-clad servant girls and nymphs, feeding him grapes. In between all these, an assortment of fauns, nymphs, young men and women and about two or three talking beasts were playing some wild game of tag, only everyone seemed to be "It." Occasionally, when a faun or a young man caught a girl or a nymph, he wouldn't let go but instead kiss her until she—in a fit of giggles—agreed to be dragged away to some shadowy corner. Everyone was wearing garlands of flowers and leaves in their hair or around their necks. All around were tables filled with fruit, bread, sweet meats and cheeses that anyone could just pick up at one's leisure. And then there was the wine. Barrels and barrels had been set at every corner for anyone to go to, to fill their cups.

"What is this?" asked a confused Lucy to no one in particular. "Is this some kind of Galman festival?"

"Actually, it's Narnian," Mr. Beaver blurted. Lucy turned to look at him and he shrank back fearfully at her as if he just let something that he shouldn't, slip. Lucy eyed the rest of her companions. None of them were looking surprised at the sight before them. It was as if, they were used to seeing such things. Lucy was even more puzzled.

"What do you mean it's Narnian?" Her question was directed to all of her Narnian escorts although all of them were suddenly looking at either the sky, the ground, or every other direction but hers.

Lucy folded her arms across her chest and eyed them all crossly. That familiar feeling of being left out at something was back. "I demand an answer! What do you mean it's Narnian? We don't have a festival like this!"

Her escorts all looked at each other nervously. Finally one of the centaurs confessed. "Actually, your majesty… we do. It's just that your highness… didn't know."

Lucy's mouth hung open. How could she live for the last twelve years in Narnia and not know about this?

"You mean this is part of the Ceresian festival?" she asked.

"No," explained Mr. Beaver. "But it coincides. It's celebrated after dusk until dawn. It's called a Bacchanalia. It's a thanksgiving celebration led by Bacchus, the god of wine, also of harvest—the grape harvest in particular. It's usually just the fauns, the nymphs and the satyrs who attend although it is open to all. It's just that most of us magical beasts find it a bit too rowdy so we don't attend."

The shirtless young man noticed Lucy and her party. He rose from his couch and lifted a goblet to her.

"Ah visitors!" he slurred. "Would you care—would you care to join us? More wine!" He slurped at his cup then fell back onto his couch while his servant girls fawned over him and refilled his goblet.

Lucy stared at him for a moment before she had to move away quickly as a large group of dancing fauns, wild men and women began taking over the spot Lucy was standing on. Lucy could see they were all quite tipsy. In fact, she noticed, no one in the courtyard apart from herself and her Narnian escorts were sober.

"So they all get drunk?" Lucy asked in annoyance. "That's how they celebrate it?"

"Well, your majesty it is part of the celebration," explained the griffin in a very soft voice. "What's a grape festival without the wine?"

"You all knew about this? You knew this festival existed?"

"Your highness," whimpered one of the dogs politely. "Everyone knows about the festival."

"I didn't!" Lucy complained. "And Peter, Susan and Edmund, they didn't—"

And she suddenly remembered that they did. Lucy suddenly felt insulted that the entire kingdom had kept this a secret from her!

"Don't be mad, dear," said Mr. Beaver. "Tumnus and your brothers didn't think it was appropriate for you to join. They told everyone not to tell you. They didn't want Susan to know either, but she found out."

"And she never told me!" cried Lucy bitterly. "Why not?"

Mr. Beaver shook his head. "I don't know. Edmund said they had their reasons."

"And he's going to give them to me tonight when I find him!" gritted Lucy angrily. "So this is why he didn't come home! He decided to attend the Bacchanalia in Galma!"

"Well… that is quite strange," said one of the centaurs. "The Galmans don't really celebrate the Bacchanalia. They're a priggish lot and they find the Bacchanalia a bit too wild for their taste. It's rather surprising that they would hold the festival now."

Lucy huffed irately. "Three guesses, my dear brother started it here. That would explain why he ordered all that wine!" It was beginning to make sense to her now. This festival explained why Narnia never had any wine surplus at the end of the year. "Split up and find my brother," she ordered. "He has some explaining to do."

Her Narnian escorts didn't need another word although all of them looked quite terrified. It was rare that they ever see their young queen angry, and when she did, everyone took her seriously.

After several minutes of looking Lucy met her party near the gate and compared notes. No one had seen Edmund in the courtyard and they couldn't find anyone sober enough to give directions. Lucy ordered them to split again. She sent half to check the stables and the vast gardens. The other half accompanied her inside the castle.

"Now this is irresponsible," muttered Lucy when she and Mr. Beaver and two dogs went through the castle doors and entered the large empty hallway unrestrained. "Anyone could attack the country and take over it and nobody would even stop them."

Mr. Beaver just shrugged then suddenly made a motion for them to be quiet. Lucy could hear loud voices from behind the closed door at the end of the hall. Lucy figured the door led to the throne room.

"Pentheus, this is madness! It has got to stop!" an elderly male voice shouted.

"We can't! It's part of their sacred tradition. We have to honour it and hold the festivities or else it might send a bad sign to King Edmund! Then he won't marry Penthea."

There was the sound of glass breaking. "Damn that Edmund to throw my words back into my face! He got us! He got us alright! He knows if we refused to hold this—this uncivilized ritual of his country he could claim we don't respect his traditions!"

"Then there's nothing we can do Lycurgus but bear it. It will be over soon. Just three more days."

There was another sound of glass shattering on the floor. "I can't take three more days of this, brother! Apart from the scandalous way he's carrying on, he is disrupting the entire kingdom's workforce. It's all well for him to be feasting all day and providing the wine. But we can't afford to feed all these creatures he brought in as well as our own people with sumptuous food for an entire week when nobody's producing anything! And what happens after the seventh day? Tell me? The peasants are not going to be back to the farms and the seas to work immediately. Oh no! They will all be lying on their beds because they have spent the entire week drinking and none of them could stand! Just look around you. All the servants are gone! Nobody's attending to anything! If Calormen wants to attack us, we might as well hang ourselves because even the palace guards are too drunk to fight back!"

"But think about it brother. The power we will get with such an alliance from Narnia when King Edmund marries Penthea."

"_If_ he marries Penthea!" the man called Lycurgus thundered. "He didn't exactly say so. He said he wants to 'get to know her better as she gets to know him.' Those were his exact words. And now we know him. He's a drunk who cares about nothing but his wine. He merely rides on the glory of his brother's conquests!"

Lucy clenched her fist at this insult. That wasn't like Edmund at all. Why would anyone think that?

"But what about my daughter's honour?" cried the man called Pentheus.

"You think marrying her to him would save her honour? Brother, King Edmund has spent the last four days drunk in the garden in the arms of those wild tree-women of sorts, such behaviour doesn't merit that he will be faithful to Penthea even if he married her."

Lucy was beginning to understand. _Oh Edmund, what have you gotten yourself into? _But at the same time she felt a swell of pride that her brother appeared to be more than capable of getting himself out of his own mess.

"Besides, I won't have it, Pentheus! This barbaric feast is setting a bad example on everyone! He's already infected my son! He's out there drunk with the rest of them!"

There was a long moment of silence before Lycurgus' voice continued: "I will voluntarily submit as a vassal to Narnia because our country needs protection. I will readily pay the tribute, but I refuse to have anything more to do with that Edmund or his family! I refuse to let Penthea marry him. I won't even let my son marry that Narnian Queen he's been courting for months. I could just imagine what kind of woman she is if that's the kind of brother she has!"

"We must withdraw then," said Pentheus in a defeated tone that Lucy was almost sorry for him.

"I'll speak to him in the morning," said Lycurgus. "I hope he'll be sober enough then. It's no use tonight. I'll tell him he doesn't need to marry Penthea. I just want him to leave and take his whole horde of beasts with him."

Lucy nodded to their companions that they should go now. They had heard enough. They tiptoed quietly out of the castle and proceeded to the gardens to search for Edmund.

The gardens were large and had a great assortment of shrubs and trees. Lucy thought it was rather lovely and was half distracted from her errand by staring at the well-tended flower beds she passed by. Still, she thought, natural was best and this garden for all its beautiful landscape still cannot compete with Narnia's wild woods.

Lucy heard a familiar laugh from behind a bush and rushed on to it without thinking.

"Mr. Tumnus! Have you seen Ed—"

She stopped and stared in horror as she realized she just interrupted a rather private moment between her very drunk oldest Narnian friend and a doe-eyed nymph that she remembered had often waited on her at breakfast in Cair Paravel. Lucy quickly backed away and covered her eyes with her hands. But in the next moment, she wished she covered her ears instead. Mr. Tumnus and the nymph appeared to be oblivious to her presence and their sighs and giggles invaded Lucy's hearing, tormenting her further until she was forced to run away from them as fast as she could.

"Now can you still blame Tumnus and your brothers for not telling you?" asked Mr. Beaver, who followed behind her heels.

"Believe me, Mr. Beaver," replied Lucy as she shook her head, willing the image to leave her scarred mind. "I completely understand their reasons now and I forgive them, wholeheartedly. Please, let's just find Edmund and go back to the ship."

"Er… Lucy dear… you did remember the King of Galma describe what Edmund's been doing these last few days. Are you sure you want to _find _him at all?"

Lucy blushed. "Well, I still want to talk to him. But could you…"

"I'll go ahead and give him prior warning you're coming," replied Mr. Beaver.

They didn't have to look long. Mr. Beaver found Edmund at a gazebo at one end of the garden. He was wearing nothing but a faun skin and he had garlands of flowers in his hair like everyone else. But to Lucy's relief, he appeared to be relatively decent though he wasn't alone. There was a lovely nymph beside him, singing a wonderful tune.

"Lucy, what are you doing here?" Edmund asked. He sounded perfectly sober and perfectly alarmed.

"I came to check on you. We were worried when you didn't come home."

"I can explain," he said, blushing guiltily. He nodded to the nymph beside him. "This is Semele, by the way."

Lucy offered her a generous smile, knowing this was her brother's mystery love. "Pleased to meet you." The nymph greeted her back gaily without a sign of embarrassment as nymphs never do. Lucy often thought they were strange but wonderful creatures. They had no pretenses and no selfishness but were always honest about their feelings and gestures. They were free to love, to live and to be happy without unattainable desires that humans had. Lucy realized why Edmund would prefer her to a human companion. With her, he was free to be open without appearing weak for she would accept him no matter what. She took him as he was, not for his crown, not for his skill in battle or his physical traits.

Lucy turned her attention to her brother and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's alright, I understand." And she told him what she had overheard between the King and Duke of Galma. Edmund looked immensely relieved then related how Penthea had set him up to entrap him into a marriage and how he planned to get the King to crack and withdraw the proposal by annoying him with the Bacchanalia.

"I actually wrote to Bacchus and got him to agree to hold the Bacchanalia here," explained Edmund. "Without him of course, or Silenus and the Maenads," he added. "You can tell Mummy Susan that. I know she'll be worried that I'm not responsible if she hears about this."

"Oh I'm sure she'll won't mind too much if she knew why you had to do it," replied Lucy. She wanted to reassure her brother she wasn't a tattle tale. "And what are Maenads?" asked Lucy.

"Bacchus' female companions," answered Mr. Beaver. "They're a bit mad."

Edmund nodded. "You don't want the Maenads here, believe me. I don't want anyone from Galma getting killed when those Maenads do something unexpected. And I just sent for our regular wine. Not the ones Bacchus lets flow every festival. Those could really turn you crazy if you have too much. The real Bacchanalia at home can be a bit wild and I don't want to risk it getting out of hand. I only want to upset Lycurgus a little."

"How did you get Bacchus to agree to let the nymphs and fauns to come here during his festival?" asked Mr. Beaver. "I didn't think even the kings of Narnia had authority over beings like him."

Edmund smiled at them wistfully. "Oh he owes me a favor and he's a good enough chap to let me lead the festival this year."

Lucy felt that familiar hint that there was a big secret tied up here somewhere but decided to probe this later. In the meantime, she had another more pressing question about his behavior.

"So you're not really drunk?" asked Lucy.

Edmund rolled his eyes and snorted. "No. I'm not that stupid, Lu. I sip occasionally just for show. Besides, I'm not Peter. I know how to hold my drink."

"Since when was Peter ever drunk? He never was."

Edmund said nothing and avoided her gaze and Lucy caught on.

"Ed," she rounded him. "What exactly happened during the Bacchanalia that you went to years ago with Susan and Peter?"

Edmund looked fearfully for a moment as if Lucy had just discovered a terrible secret. But he shook his head and said firmly but with a shudder: "Don't ever ask that again Lucy. Just believe me when I say, you don't want to know."

Lucy was about to retort that it was unfair for him to be keeping secrets from her when the image of Mr. Tumnus being very comfortable with a nymph flashed back into her mind. Lucy held her tongue. She decided there were some secrets she preferred to remain so.

**End**

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait, life caught up with me, I couldn't have time to edit. But yes, it's Bacchus also known as Dionysus/Dionysos. All you guys who reviewed got it right so give yourself warm pats on the back! _

_In the Birth of Tragedy by Friedrich Nietzsche, the German philosopher made a contrast between Apollo and Bacchus. Apollo represents civilized behavior, reason, and form. Bacchus, on the other hand, represents the unrestrained life. They counterbalance each other. The former keeps one in line, the latter promotes inspiration translated into drama—the foremost activity in the modern Bacchanalian festivals. Kudos to fledge for knowing that._

_The Bacchanalia shares its festival at the same time as the Harvest Festival in honor of Ceres, and in later years, they were worshipped together. _

_Some of the names of the characters I used here figure significantly in the story of Bacchus. Pentheus and Lycurgus were men who defied him and were punished for it. Semele was the name of Bacchus' human mother (I was trying to find the name of a nymph, but I couldn't find one except Daphne, but she's associated with Apollo not with Bacchus. I could have named Edmund's nymph love Ariadne who in literature was Bacchus' love, but the name Semele sounded so good for a nymph so I used it instead). _

_Bacchus appears in the LWW and Caspian to represent the freedom of the creatures of Narnia. _

_To Cass P. and Fae Elric, I also thought about Susan as similar to Artemis/Diana but I did like the concept of Susan as a mother and I wanted her to have links with Bacchus, thus I chose Ceres. But I think you're right, she can be both representative of Ceres and Diana._

_And finally, I know what you're all going to ask: What happened to Edmund, Susan and Peter during the Bacchanalia they attended? Yes, you'll find out when I write that story, but you have to be patient with me, the plot is still muddled in my head and I haven't gotten around to writing it down. Just a warning: Are you sure you really want to find out? It's bound to be disturbing. I'm actually half-afraid to write it. _


End file.
